I Am Me: A South Park Story
by The Deviant Writer
Summary: Hello, I'm Kyle Broflovski, but my real name is Katherine. I am seventeen years old and my birthday is on May 21. I am a moral, justified, somewhat righteous person who speaks their mind and says what needs to be said. I don't think too highly of myself because I don't make the right decisions all the time. Oh, and I'm a girl who dresses like a boy every time I leave the house.


Chapter I: All For a Reason

Hello, I'm Kyle Broflovski, but my real name is Katherine. I am seventeen years old and my birthday is on May 21. I was conceived in New Jersey, but born in California. I have a mother, Sheila, who is an activists, a father, Gerald, who is a lawyer, and an adopted Canadian little brother, Ike, who's supposedly a genius. I guess he's book smart but he's isn't wise. I have three main friends; Stan Marsh is my 'super best friend', Kenny McCormick is my best friend; and Eric Cartman is... well... the guy who hangs around us all the the time. I call them my main friends because they are who I mainly hang out with; but I have other friends like Clyde, Token, Tweek, Craig, Butters, and sometimes Jimmy and Timmy. I don't like to isolate myself with Kenny, Stan, and Cartman.

I lived in South Park, Colorado almost all my life and crazy shit goes on around here. My family moved to South Park when I was three years old, when and where they adopted my brother, Ike. They adopted his when I was five years old, though. The reason we moved here was because my parents wanted to live in a simple, quiet, normal mountain town. South Park was the complete opposite. I am a moral, justified, somewhat righteous person who speaks their mind and says what needs to be said. I don't think too highly of myself because I don't make the right decisions all the time. Oh, and I'm a girl who dresses like a boy every time I leave the house.

I have a sense of what you're thinking, "What is wrong with you?!" or "Disgusting!" or "I don't give a shit." Well then fuck you too. You judge me because of what I do, but I dare you to look in the mirror and list all of your flaws. The reason I dress like a boy isn't because I am a cross-dresser. It's because of one person, Wendy Testaburger. I have always hated Wendy, but we used to be best friends. It's not because I am a girl and girls are always in competition with each other but act like friends. It was because Wendy is a manipulative, hypocritical, concerned, controlling, and dictating bitch. She is almost as bad as Cartman. So here is the story of why I cross dress.

When I turned four, my mom put me in South Park Preschool. I had an orange dress, an orange coat and a green scarf. I was really shy and nervous at the preschool because all I remember was my mom dressing me, driving me there, and dropping me off, leaving a tall hazel brown haired woman taking me inside. It was so cold I was shaking while we walked to the room as she held my hand. We walked into the room and I saw a lot of kids. There was a group of boys near the blocks, one was blonde and twitching, the one next to him had darker skin, the other had brown hair and the last had a blue and yellow hat. The one with blue hat had a blank expression while everyone else looked to be enjoying themselves. My attention turned, near the Play Dough section and saw three boys. One was chubby wearing a red coat and light blue hat, the other had an orange coat with his hoodie on and looked dirty, and the last one was wear a blue hat with a red poof ball. In the drawing section, there were a couple of girls. On was blonde girl that had long hair, one had short cherry red hair, and the last had black hair with a pink hat on.

She looked at straight at me and smiled. I put on a nervous smile as she walked up to me. "Hi. I'm Wendy." she said squeakily and stuck out her hand for a shake. I shook her hand. "Katherine. That's my name." I said quietly but loud enough for her to hear. She still had a wide grin on her face. "I'll call you Kathy, alright. Wanna sit with us?" she asked. I nod in response, she grabbed my hand and guided me to her table. We became really good friends that day, probably best friends. We had a lot in common. We like the same favorite food, favorite number, we had the same fears, same favorite show, and we always played together, sat together, and had lunch together. We both love reading, drawing, and writing stories. We also love music; Wendy wanted to play violin and I wanted to play the flute. Though we had differences, it didn't matter to us. She even made me a barrette that said, "K + W BFF." That hair clip meant a lot to me, it was very special. I wore that barrette every day from that moment on. Wendy and I were best friends until first grade. In first grade was when began cross dress.

When Wendy and I became friends, a blonde girl named Bebe Stevens started getting jealous. So during recess, she gathered all the girls and asked them their crushes. Alot of them were Clyde and Craig, except for Wendy's and mine. Both of our crushes were Stan. Yeah, I had a crush on Stan. Looking back on it now, makes me think it was so stupid. When Wendy and I said "Stan" at the same time. We looked at each other and laughed. We were still friends because that was something we had in common. We didn't become rivals, but that was only the beginning. Bebe then started telling Wendy lies that claimed that I said, "Wendy is stupid and ugly so Stan will never like her." It was like she was getting this stuff off of a bad drama and romance high school movie. I didn't really think crushes were that important in first grade, that's why they are called crushes. I was unaware of this until Wendy and I got into a fight. It wasn't a first fight, of course, more like a confronting. She yelled at me about these rumors and I denied the accusations she made. In the end, our fight ended with Wendy walking away saying that I was a bad friend. It stung to hear her say that about because of how close we are. It's amazing to think a simple first grader could do this much damage.

After that fight, we never talked to each other and Bebe had Wendy all to herself. We didn't play together, we didn't eat lunch together, it was all over. A friendship that seemed so strong, broke right before my eyes. I didn't cry we our friendship ended though, because I still have that barrette she gave to me. That barrette told me that even though it seems over, our friendship will always be there. So we both continued on, not dwelling on the past, or at least that's what I thought. That's when Wendy ordered Bebe to tells the other girls to be mean to me and bully me to try to make me cry. Wendy wanted to see me cry so that ways she felt she was in control, similar to when a breakup happens. No one wants to be person who was broken up with. She wanted to make me cry, and that is exactly what she did. I didn't cry when Bebe and the other girls called me names and said bad things about me. What made me cry was when, one day during recess, the girls surrounded me and Wendy stood in front of me.

I didn't think Wendy was a violent person but she looked intimidating in front of me. I prepared for the worst. I flinched as her hand reached out for my hair and pulled out the buret. Then she broke it in two, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. I started crying, I couldn't help but let the tears flow from my eyes and drip down my cheeks. I thought she was my friend. Their mission was complete, but they didn't let up. The continuing weeks they kept harassing me and soon I realized they might start beating me up. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't tell my mom or dad because I was afraid of what the result could vary. My mother could be disappointed in me because I couldn't stand up for myself. My parents could say I need to be independent and ignore me. My mother might start a protest and the girls could keep bullying and no one will do anything. This could go on forever, Wendy is the type of girl who holds a grudge as long as she wants. All I could do was run and hide. Soon enough it was close to the end of the year and I'll still be tortured in second grade and so on.

Later on with in that week we had a class and we talked about family trees. A boy said, "My cousin is a boy but he dresses like a girl." "That doesn't make any sense," a girl shouted. The classroom then filled with roaring pointless arguments. Then the teacher interrupted, "Children, that is a completely normal to dress like the opposite gender. It is called cross dressing." I was confused but paid no mind to her explanation. It didn't matter to me, I was in first grade and I would apply to me in at least middle school. I don't know why they were shouting about it. The class soon went into silence because it was time to draw the family tree. I couldn't draw because I was distracted by other matters. That is when I got the idea, "I could disguise myself as a boy so that way the girls won't recognize me." A smile grew on my face but quickly faded as I rationed my idea, "But then they'd wonder where I went." My mind kept fighting with my plan and whether or not it was a good idea. "Then I will have to wait until the end of the year" I thought that was my final decision. I stuck with it and smoothened out any other obstacles, it was risky but I was determined. when i finished and finalised my plan it was only about three weeks until the end of the year. We had many three-day and four-day weekends up ahead. For once in a long time I smiled. Soon, I will be free, I just have to wait.


End file.
